


Failed First Dates

by nikonic



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Fluff, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 17:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6816727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikonic/pseuds/nikonic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not easy finding alone time on a top-secret base. </p><p>Also known as the fives times Bobbi and Daisy try to go on a date and the one time it finally happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Failed First Dates

**Author's Note:**

> This fluffiness was requested by Doctor awhile ago, and I finally had enough inspiration and motivation to get it written. Doctor, I hope it fits the bill! Thanks for the idea! 
> 
> As always, I own nothing, and I'm just playing with Whedon's characters for fun because he can't be trusted to be nice to them.

5: 

The doors of the lab slide closed. The lock falling into place is ominous and definitive. Daisy glances up from her phone moments before the alarm wails its alert. "Uh... The fuck is that?" Pocketing her device, the inhuman hops off the counter. For her own confirmation, she checks the doors. "We're locked in." 

"It seems that way, yes," Simmons states, calmly using tongs to move the precariously bubbling beakers to a decontamination unit. "I may have just exposed the lab to a slight dose of radiation. Nothing to worry about. We'll just follow protocol and complete the mandated tests and quarantine. So sorry." 

Daisy focuses on a few key words while stepping away from the thick cloud of fog forming above the beaker. "What do you mean by slight radiation? Actually slight or big-green-monster slight?" 

"Well it's not likely that we would survive the level of radiation that created Dr Banner's alter ego," Fitz responds.

"Isn't that comforting? When do we figure out how much radiation we got? And more importantly, when can I get out of here? I have a date, remember?" 

It's the Scottish scientist who answers the inhuman yet again. "You had a date," he corrects. Daisy has never had a little brother (not really anyway), but somehow she knows that the feeling of wanting to hit Fitz has something to do with the sibling-like relationship they share. Later she'll be amused by that; right now though, she's strongly debating punching him, even as Simmons bustles around apologizing.

Two hours later, when Daisy's pacing around a human-sized decontamination chamber in large, shapeless white suit that looks oh-so-attractive, Bobbi appears with a gleeful smirk. "Shut up," Daisy insists before the blonde has a chance to utter a single word. "This isn't funny!"

"Have you seen yourself," Bobbi counters. "Because this is absolutely hilarious." A deep scowl etches in the brunette's features as Bobbi snaps a picture for posterity. "Anyway," she continues through her joyful laughter. "I thought you might want to give our date a try."

"While I'm in quarantine? Really, Bobbi? We can't go on a date when one half of said couple is locked in a sterile prison with the nerd herd." Despite the verbal objections of FitzSimmons, Daisy continues her rant. "You just showed up to take a few blackmail pictures. You're the worst, and you know it."

Bobbi shrugs with no intention of denying her desire for blackmail. "You resurrected my MySpace from the early 2000s. You brought it on yourself." The victorious grin makes Daisy's heart skip a small beat; watching the blonde walk away isn't so bad either. "Date rain check for Thursday," Bobbi asks over her shoulder. 

"Stupid radiation," Daisy groans and Jemma blushes embarrassedly. 

 

4: 

Thursday finds the agent in the medical bay after taking a kick to the head. By Lance Hunter. The Brit is well aware that he's in for it when Bobbi's concussion allows her to beat him to a pulp. "She snuck up on me. She's bloody quiet," he explains, rushing through his explanation to the nurse. 

"She's a secret agent, you idiot. She's supposed to be quiet," Daisy yells back. The volume of the shouting causes the blonde to wince significantly. Well it's either the noise or the bright-ass pen light checking her pupil dilation. "How did you even manage to kick her in the head? I've seen you spar, and you're not nearly that flexible."

"In my defense, I did a lot worse when we were married." Hunter looks between the two women and the nurse patching up his ex-wife. "Absolutely right. That was not better. I'll just shut up now. Bloody terrifying women," he mutters under his breath. 

Bobbi rubs her face tiredly as the nurse scribbles something on a notepad and collects a set of pills from the cabinet. "Follow the instructions on the bottle. Drink 16 oz of water. Get some sleep. Take it easy the next couple of days. You know the drill. You," the authoritative woman gestures to Daisy. "Get her back to her bunk and make sure she adheres to those instructions. Got it?"

Hunter grumbles about not being given a job to help Bobbi. (That's before he remembers that he is exactly the reason she needs help at all.) Daisy waits patiently, floating around Bobbi lest the blonde lose her balance. "Ready?" 

Keeping a steady hand on Daisy's shoulder, Bobbi shuffles down the hall. "Jesus my head hurts." Each step seems to vibrate through her skull, and there's a high likelihood of vomiting in the near future. "Guess it's my turn to cancel our date," Bobbi laughs in a self-deprecating tone. 

"I think we'll blame this one on our idiot teammate. Anyway, I know where you live," Daisy teases lightly, purposefully keeping her voice low and quiet. "Not very many places you can get away from me on this base, so we'll have our date sooner or later."

When the door closes shut, Bobbi leans heavily against the wall with a relieved sigh. "I hate to ask, but..." One handed, the agent gestures at her skintight field suit. "If I try to get out of it at this moment, well... Then I may as well go back to the medical bay now." 

"Normally I'd make a joke about you needing to buy me dinner first, but I'm not actually the one getting naked. And really we've tried the whole dinner thing, so I can't hold that against you." The joke lightens the mood, and Bobbi laughs softly, ignoring the traitorous fluttering in her body at the feeling of Daisy's fingers working each of the suit's closures efficiently. "Pajamas?" 

With a startled cough, Bobbi points at the appropriate drawer in the dresser. Somehow it's infinitely more intimate being dressed by Daisy, and the blonde actively thinks of anything else. "You all set?" The blonde tries to be embarrassed that Daisy helped her with such basic care as dressing, undressing, and teeth brushing; really though, she can't be bothered because she is tired and her head really hurts. The only thing Bobbi can think to be is grateful. "You want me to stay? In case you need anything?"

"I'm good. Thanks," Bobbi insists, already feeling her limbs relax into the bed. God the pillow is a cloud, she thinks. A cloud that lessens the vibrations of pain in her skull. 

The blonde doesn't remember falling asleep. When a parched mouth urges her awake, she looks around groggily, blue eyes landing on the crumpled inhuman dozing awkwardly in the chair at the desk. After a gulp of water that would make a camel proud, Bobbi closes her eyes to sleep again, a smile playing at her lips and butterflies in her stomach.

 

 

3:

"It has the best cinnamon rolls, I swear," Daisy insists, giddily dragging Bobbi towards one of the SUVs. "They're the best. Everything about them is phenomenal. And they have awesome mimosas." The blonde simply shakes her head and follows along; the brunette's childlike wonder for something as common as cinnamon rolls is downright adorable. Just the thought of sugar seems to make Daisy more hyper than normal, and she fidgets in the passenger seat, waiting for Bobbi to get the car started. "C'mon," she groans. "Cinnamon rolls," she states again, as if that explains the urgency. 

"Take a breath, Rockstar. It's our first official date. No need to rush it, right?" Daisy concedes the point, though she does mumble another few phrases about the godliness of he cinnamon rolls, and settles in to find some suitable music for the drive. The address is finally in the GPS when the back doors of the SUV open. "What do you think you're doing, Hunter," Bobbi demands, as the Brit buckles his seat belt. 

He smiles at her cheekily, knowing exactly what he's interrupting, and Mack pales a little next to him. "Hunter said we were going out for breakfast," the mechanic explains cautiously. "But we can eat here if you ladies had something planned..."

"We d..."

"C'mon, loves," Hunter pleads, interrupting Bobbi's insistence that yes, plans were very much made. Multiple times in fact. "I need to get off this bloody base. If I stay here, I'll say something barbaric, and May will make me do all the inventory. Again. Please have mercy and take us to go get a pint. Or a cinnamon roll. Whatever really. Pretty please." 

With a solid thump of her forehead against the steering wheel, Bobbi reminds him for the twelve hundredth time this lifetime that the appearance of the please by no means makes the request any better. Daisy sighs dramatically, slumping down in her seat. "See this is why you should have hurried," she snarks. "At this rate, we're never going to go on our first date," she grumbles. "Fine, fine. You can come, but Hunter, you owe me. Big time." Bobbi glances over at the grumpy brunette with a look that clearly asks if she's sure. Daisy nods and forces a smile before turning to glare steadily at Hunter. At least he has the decency to look somewhat guilty. "Reschedule number 3," Daisy asks, and all Bobbi can do is laugh self deprecatingly.

 

 

2:

It's a quiet evening, and so far everything has gone according to some modicum of the original plan. Or whatever version of the "first date" plan they're on now. There's wine, and the food smells heavenly. No one is injured or quarantined. It's just Bobbi and Daisy finally getting the chance to enjoy each other's company. "So how does one make... food," Daisy wonders, peeking into the oven excitedly, only to be swatted away by a dish towel. 

"I take it you never learned to cook," Bobbi chuckles as she leans against the counter. Her blonde hair falls in waves around her face; her lips pick up the slightest tint from the red wine, and the brunette can't help but stare.

Daisy pops up on the island, swinging her legs impatiently. "You realize I lived in a van, right? I didn't have a bathroom much less a kitchen. Running water- definitely not a thing. Anyway, I read recipes like I read science fiction. I get to the end, and I laugh because there's no way in hell it's ever going to happen." Bobbi's laughter has quickly become one of Daisy's favorite sounds, and the inhuman does all she can to hear it as often as possible. "In all honesty, given our line of work, some of the science fiction is a lot more plausible than me making something edible from stuff."

Bobbi's just diving into a story about how she learned to cook when the commissary door swings open, revealing the Director. "Great. There you are."

"No," Daisy groans. "Not again. I just want one date. Just one. Seriously?" Coulson steamrolls through his speech about an unstable inhuman on Hydra's watchlist as if Daisy had said nothing at all. "Coulson," she whines petulantly, even as she stomps past him to collect her suit. 

Bobbi sighs as well and gestures to the oven forlornly. "Give it another 25 minutes or so, and it's all yours." As she walks out, Coulson apologizes. He does a much better job at looking guilty than Hunter ever did. "I know, sir." 

The plane ride consists of Daisy complaining about the universe and pacing around, occasionally wiggling in her suit. She's getting used to it, but it's not nearly as comfortable as her jeans and converses. "Why can't we have just one meal when nothing explodes or someone needs something? Just one. That can't be too much to ask. It's the universe, I swear it. Third time's supposed to be the charm, but we're on four now, and I'm sensing a pattern. It's not a pattern I like either, Bobbi."

"We'll have our date, I promise. We'll just go to the middle of the Sahara or something where no one can find us. We can have a picnic. A quiet, sandy picnic. Or do you prefer Siberia? I'm sure we could find somewhere nice and isolated to have an uninterrupted date there."

"Maybe just shoot for a first date on the moon. That seems about as realistic as us ever getting time alone."

The snark eventually morphs into a discussion about the volatile inhuman they're trying to find. His name is Darren Callfeld. A normal guy by the looks of it- mid 30s, strong build, works as a construction foreman. "What's his super power? And more importantly how did he get on Hydra's radar," Bobbi wonders aloud, as Daisy reads off her research.

That's the million dollar question, isn't it? "He's ex Marines. Did two tours. That's not enough to spike Hydra though. Oh..." Daisy watches grainy video surveillance of the boxing gym Darren attends. "I don't know what I'm seeing. He's there, in the ring. Everything seems fine, and then there's a burst of light. Almost like the Centipede explosion, but more controlled. It doesn't seem like fire either. And there's no big kaboom."

"So we know nothing about this guy's powers? And we're walking into a fight with Hydra? Lovely. You know, I don't know what you're talking about. This is a fantastic first official date," Bobbi sasses. "Maybe it's actually fifth times the charm?"

 

 

1: Daisy gets a stomach virus

Bobbi occasionally peers over the edge of her book to observe the young woman with whom she's in love. "Hey, Dais. You okay?" Interesting how that happened without ever going on an official date, she muses, a small smile playing at her lips at the memories. The women had made plans for a date night (again), but given the paleness blanching Daisy's face, Bobbi bets there will be yet another reschedule. "Rockstar, hello?" 

Moving purposefully, Bobbi sits next to Daisy on the couch and places a palm against the young woman's forehead. "Hmm," the inhuman moans at the contact. "Hi. What? Sorry. I'm listening."

"How do you feel?" 

Hazel eyes flutter in and out of focus, as Daisy processes the question. Slowly. Unbelievably slowly. "I'm good," she finally breathes out in a huff of air. "Dandy. All set. Date night. Whoop."

Tanned skin is warm against her lips as she kisses Daisy's forehead sweetly. "That's the spirit, Rockstar," Bobbi deadpans. "Making our date sound about as exciting as a route canal." Understanding sarcasm might be a touch too advanced for the inhuman Bobbi realizes, as Daisy's brow furrows in concentration. "Kidding, Dais. I know you're excited about our date, but your fever is threw the roof, which means we're going to medical instead of out to dinner. This close, Bobbi notices the dampness at Daisy's hairline and the slight pupil dilation in those beautiful hazel eyes. "I'm betting you got the flu from Fitz." 

"No," Daisy groans. "We have a date. I'm not sick. I'll be sick tomorrow." Even as she insists that she's perfectly fine, Daisy topples heavily into Bobbi's lap, curling into a modified fetal position. "I'm just gonna take a nap, and then I'll wake up and we can do dinner and date and all that fun stuff. 'Kay? M'kay. Good. Hmm, you're comfy."

Tenderly Bobbi brushes her fingers through the shorn brunette locks and soothes her opposite hand along Daisy's spine. She can feel the heat from the fever on her thighs. "Sorry, Rockstar, but that's not how biology works. Trust me. I'm a doctor." The blonde slips off the couch and lifts Daisy easily into her arms. "See; if you were healthy, you would have laughed at that."

"Nuh-uh. That wasn't funny. You're losing it in your old age, Morse." 

"Fuck you. I'm hilarious," Bobbi counters, as they head down the hall towards the medical bay. "And you're going to pay for that 'old age' comment later. You mark my words. Payback's a bitch."

 

 

+1: 

They're alone, but only because Daisy needs a new outfit for an upcoming undercover mission and everyone else hates the idea of shopping. Neither of the women are complaining at all; choosing instead to enjoy the rare time together. Bobbi browses through the racks casually, keeping her eyes peeled for a specific vibe. Occasionally she grabs the hangers of possibilities until she has a good selection. "Here." Her foot nudges the curtain aside just enough to squeeze through. 

Bobbi swallows thickly at Daisy, clad in a racy black lingerie set. "Oh! This one is fun. It's flowy. Is flowy a word? Flowy. Fl-ow-y. It's got to be a word, right? No. Wait. Whatever. It's a word."

The ramble gives the blonde enough time to close her mouth and actually focus. "Not a word," she corrects. "You want me to find a few more? Or do you think you'll be good with something from all of this," Bobbi asks, gesturing to the overflowing bar with nearly twenty dresses on it. 

Daisy grabs a garment from the first hanger and tugs it over her head unceremoniously. "I think I've got it narrowed down, but we'll see. Want to wait in here? It shouldn't be much longer. Anyway, I'm starving. What's there to eat around here?" Glancing over her shoulder, it's a quick veto before she's on to the next one and then the next.

"You can't possibly be hungry." Hazel eyes glare playfully at Bobbi in lieu of a response. "Fine. Fine. I'll see what's around here and give you some options." This particular scrap of fabric is an entertaining excuse for a dress; it's skin tight, and the beautiful peach color is a great accent to the inhuman's tanned skin. "Coulson would never let you leave base wearing that. I mean I'm not complaining, but Daddy Phil would blow a gasket."

Daisy stares at it critically in the mirror, shifting this way and that. The determined crinkle in the young woman's brow causes Bobbi to chuckle. "Where exactly would I put a holster in this dress? Like when May was in that really pretty silver dress, we all know she was carrying. But where?"

The thought alone makes Bobbi cringe because she has plenty of experience hiding large weaponry in skintight clothing. It's not particularly fun. "You don't want to know, Rockstar. It usually involves a lot of double sided tape." Her phone screen fills with little red dots and the associated Yelp reviews as Daisy finally gives up on the peach bandage dress and moves onto the next. "There's Thai, sushi, burgers, and pizza relatively close by. Have a preference?"

Having narrowed it down to two dresses, Daisy buys both because decisions about pretty clothes are challenging, and the women head down the street for burgers. It's really a gorgeous afternoon- sunny with a breeze and those picturesque puffy clouds dancing through the sky. Bobbi enjoys it even more when Daisy's fingers intertwine with her own, hands swinging easily in time with their gate. 

Two cheeseburgers, two fries, a Coke, and a milkshake complete their order. They sit outside, knees brushing under the table and smiles plastered on their faces as they joke about their teammates and make up stories about passers-by. "You know," Bobbi notices, swiping some of Daisy's Cajun-spiced fries. "I think we can now officially say we are on a date. An actual, honest-to-God date." Daisy grins happily and claps her hands in celebration. "No illnesses. No injuries. No missions. No ex husbands or interrupting teammates."

"And look," Daisy shrieks. "We didn't have to fly to Siberia or the moon! It's a miracle!" She swats at Bobbi's thieving hand as the blonde steals more fries, this time dunking them into her milkshake for a salty sweet combination. "The real question is are we following a no sex until date five thing or whatever? Because if we are, we might as well go join a convent now. If it took this long for one date, can you imagine what kind of timeline we're looking at for five?"

The statement startles a deep belly laugh out of Bobbi, and she thinks of her deeply religious grandmother, likely tossing in her grave at the mere suggestion. Meanwhile Daisy's giggling hysterically. "You in a habit. Oh my god. Maybe I can convince Coulson to make you do a mission where that is necessary attire." 

"Oh. You want to go there, do you? Shall I resurrect the lovely photo of you as a quarantined marshmallow? Because I'm thinking of just printing out thousands of copies and scattering them all over base." 

And that's how the date continues- playful banter and teasing in the beautiful weather. As far as first dates go, it's one for the books, and Bobbi has always been a firm believer in 'better late than never.'

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! Reviews and kudos make my world go round. If you have any ideas you'd like to see in fanfic form for this pairing or any other, please let me know! I'm always on the lookout for inspiration. 
> 
> Thanks for taking the time to read, and I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
